


Cut Sleeve

by FeckedSpectrum



Category: Kamisama Hajimemashita | Kamisama Kiss
Genre: Bath Sex, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3240386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeckedSpectrum/pseuds/FeckedSpectrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akura-ou reflects on how greedy his brother makes him feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cut Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

> I blame episode 3 so much for demanding a fanfic for this ship to be written.

It was the nature of gods to be benevolent yet distant. It was the nature of humans to chase what happiness they could glean from their short, depressing lives.

It was the nature of yokai to be greedy, to chase possession of titles, ranks, respect. The fox knew this well, hiding so many of his precious things away so that only his eyes could see them, and perhaps to keep those things from breaking apart in Akura-ou’s hands.

Akura-ou hoarded his precious things differently.

He possessed them, entirely. His gaze constantly drawn to them, his thoughts surrounding them, his fingers finding both the silk of hair and clothing to be irritating, hiding that soft pale skin from his searching hands. He loved to search regardless, but the point was to eventually find purchase, curling his fingers around a shoulder, under a knee, around a neck. To discover how difficult that fight really was by how salty the skin tasted on his tongue.

It wasn’t enough.

He was constantly pulled towards his precious things, but this one was different. This one could return less affection than a sharp blade could to flesh. Lavender eyes turned blank, lips forming just the hint of a frown, but not even offering that emotion.

The fox would pull and pull, offering nothing, but Akura-ou would still follow.

There were times that the fox wasn’t so coy, when he was hungry for it. He could match desperation in a slick, heart-racing moment when his guard fell down, as if it were a mask he was wearing for Akura-ou’s benefit. It could be for his benefit, it could be that the fox loved him by giving him something to chase. It could be that Akura-ou just wanted to occupy that much of the fox’s thoughts.

He didn’t always need his thoughts, though he always wanted them. He could let the fox play around with others for a while, he could let that coy smile fall on another demon. Akura-ou was not cruel, because he understood the fox’s needs. He loved the fox enough to let them continue.

But it was the nature of demons to be greedy.

That was never so certain as right now, the fox’s hair gathered in a fist that had only an hour ago plunged through the chest of the last tanuki girl he played with too much. The fox didn’t know, or didn’t care, his eyes already blown wide and his voice already strained. The girl couldn’t please him, could she? Not really, and it was wrong to let the fox think they could. They couldn’t please him like Akura-ou could, tasting the desperate little moans from the fox’s own mouth, nipping lightly around his jaw and neck. He couldn’t leave marks, because those marks weren’t for others to share. In this moment, he could leave redness that would fade, but he would still see those marks. He would see his right to this body.

The fox hummed as Akura-ou worked him with a hand, quick and hard. He loved the fox when he was desperate, too easy to spoil him.

The fox hadn’t expected this, soaking in the bath with sake as his company, when Akura-ou found him. The fox hadn’t expected that his warm, wet skin would taste more delicious than the sake, or that Akura-ou wanted to rub the thick, unpleasant smell of that girl off of him as quickly as possible, a second death to that woman.

The fox hadn’t expected Akura-ou to already be slicked and readied, replacing his hand with the tightness of his ass as the fox gasped, head thrown back. The fox always loved this, loved when Akura-ou could imitate the easy slide of a woman’s thighs. The way he could prove he was the only one the fox needed, and that he needed him every way he could have him.

Only the fox deserved such a sight of the king’s hard cock bobbing in the water, the feel of his hips around the fox’s thighs, the burn and the warmth from their joining.

Only the fox could try to scratch through Akura-ou’s skin, try to leave his own marks. Only the fox could catch his hips in an instant and change the pace, to even turn their positions around as the king was caught against the wall of the bath and the fox was there to charm him, to roll his hips and draw appreciation from his mouth with little unintelligible grunts. Only the fox could make him spend so easily, head rocking back as lightning charged through his veins.

Akura-ou knew when the fox was close, hips stuttering right before his eyes closed and one last moan echoed out, pressed as deeply inside as he could manage. As if the fox also wanted to burrow himself inside his brother, as if the distance between their skins was too much to bear at times.

The fox was lazy and content, head resting on the king’s shoulder. “One of your followers said you had cut the sleeves off of your flashy net shirt for me.”

Akura-ou hummed. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a crude way of alluding to us being lovers.”

“Why would I have to take off my sleeves to be your lover?”

“It’s from a story you’re too stupid to know about,” Tomoe chided, raising an arm over the edge to sort through his clothing for his tobacco pipe.

“I’ll never cut off my sleeves for you,” Akura-ou grumbled. “I’ve already had an arm cut off for your benefit.”

If only the fox could do the same.


End file.
